


Sunburst

by Mother_of_Dragons



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, I swear I'm a good writer..., I use too many italics, I'm bad at x reader summaries tbh, Lime, Y'all should know by now that I'll write x readers for practically anyone, deep inside, unbowed. unbent. unbroken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10653324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mother_of_Dragons/pseuds/Mother_of_Dragons
Summary: It's your first day at work at your uncle's acclaimed brothel in Dorne, who would have thought the stars would align for you to meet the infamous Oberyn Martell? - Certainly not you.





	Sunburst

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at writing in a Game of Thrones-y style - at least with dialogue - George R.R. Martin who?

Seven hells! Today positively had to be one of the worst of your life.

It was your first day on the job, really you had only been here for a few hours, and you had already dropped four platters (the result of a few, more than friendly surprise ‘taps’ on your behind) and had been, ironically, demoted to clean up duty. It was no wonder that the other girls had begun to make bets on when you’d be fired - some said by nightfall to avoid embarrassment the next day, others thought lunchtime.

Yet, the more that time passed, the more disappointed and impatient they became, most frustrated at losing the only earnings that they had made today and others annoyed that such a liability hadn’t been cut loose yet.

“It makes sense, she _is_ the niece of the owner after all. No way she would have lasted this long if she was just as regular as you or me. He pities her, that's all” one of the girls - Narissa if you recall correctly - says, with no attempt to conceal her voice from you.

She wears glistening bracelets and a decorative collar emblazoned with House Sunspear’s sigil to bring out her gold flecked amber eyes. Her hair looks as soft as silk and as flaxen as wheat in a style befitting a Queen and she is, of course, dressed in tempting, barely there clothing. A house favourite no doubt; reserved for only the highest paying customer.

Underneath all that expensive perfume and fake humble act, all you see is a girl barely past her 16th name day who obtains all her joys in life by ruining others’ and all you can smell is inner _rot_.

You were glad at least that you hadn’t sold your soul for the sake of popularity, especially amongst those who made habits of cheating on their significant others and throwing away money they didn't have in betting rings.

You look up at the familiar sound of the oak doors opening as the chatter dies down and your uncle practically rushes in, barking commands as quickly and loudly as he can. The girls get into position, with Narissa taking her place at the custom made lectern, and he even asks you to stand - something about looking presentable.

Whoever it is that’s coming must be important for them to warrant even the halting of servant’s duties.

The doors open again and you have to do a ~~double~~ triple take at the new arrival. He was way more… _handsome_ than you’d have imagined, after all you’d never had the pleasure to encounter a Martell before. You’re immediately not sure what you should do and hurriedly curtsy with the others, almost tumbling over when you rise. Narissa lets out a titter and you hide your face in embarrassment behind your hair.

“Oberyn Martell, how wonderful of you to grace us with your presence” your uncle says, bowing deeply before erecting himself again. “I’m no deity, although I do like to be worshipped from time to time” Oberyn replies, smirking as he glances around the, in your opinion, overly extravagant room.

“I can fulfill that desire” Narissa speaks up, pushing her hair behind her shoulders to reveal her breasts through the sheer fabric of her clothing. Oberyn smiles and walks towards her, guards following every step. He takes a hold of a nipple and twists, eliciting a moan from her before he lets go and steps back. “Unfortunately, that's not my desire today, I want to see the sights, represent House Martell by _showing our support of local businesses"_ he says, as if mockingly reciting a speech.

“No Lady by your side today?” Narissa asks, visibly pouting at the sudden lack of contact. “She’s spending a day with the children” he replies simply, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Ah, well, Narissa will show you around then, as per your wishes m’lord” your uncle repeats, anxiously twisting a ring around his pinky finger.

“That won't be necessary, good sir, I think I can make may way around. My wife and I have… ‘graced this establishment several times already with our presence’, as you most likely recall” Oberyn states, a smirk on his face. A blush finds it's way onto your uncle's cheeks.

“I-i’m afraid I _must_ persist Ser, I imagine my reputation would be veritably tarnished if I were to let a Martell, least of all the brother of the _Prince_ of Dorne, traverse the halls unaccompanied” your uncle replies, successfully managing to shake off his stutter.

“‘Traverse these halls unaccompanied’? Do you assume this girl to protect me if I were to come into harm's way over my own men?” Oberyn says, words indicating offence as he motions to his guards but voice tainted with jest. “Of course not, no harm will come to you over this roof, I just would be reassured” your uncle replies, not taking the bait.

“Very well. I must make a so-called, compromise. Instead of, Narissa was it?, I would prefer to have a more… unorthodox guide - although I have no doubt of your skill, girl”

Although already silent, the room seems to fall into an even further quiet and all eyes return to your uncle, like watching a court tennis match. “Who did you have in mind exactly?” your uncle asks, eyes seeming to shine almost mischievously in the light. Oberyn shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, making a mummer’s farce of scanning the room although obvious he already has someone in mind - how you infer that you do not know.

“Her, clumsy girl” he finally draws out, plucking up a ripe apple from a nearby fruit bowl and examining it with seemingly as much interest as he's capable. It takes a long second and a discreet scowl shot your way by Narissa for you to realise that by ‘clumsy girl’ Oberyn Martell, meant... _you._

“Me?” you blurt out, mirroring your thoughts of surprise. In response, he looks up at you through his lashes, that hint of a smirk back as he takes a bite out of the apple’s unblemished skin - a nod of confirmation. “It would be a great honour” you finally reply as you curtsy again, knowing nothing would come of any attempts to argue - as proven by your uncle.

Leaving your sweeping behind, you take a few steps towards the centre of the room until you come to a stop in front of Oberyn, very aware of all the eyes on you. “Is there any place in particular you would most like to see, my lord?” you ask, voice coming out less shaky than you had expected, maybe you did actually have an inclination about what you were doing after all.

“Not particularly” he replies, voice lilting as he looks you up and down.

“As you like it m’lord, follow me” you reply, smirking discreetly as you pass Narissa. With barely a glance in their direction, two other girls rush to pull the doors open as your party of five approaches, heads bowed respectfully as you usher Oberyn Martell and his three guards out of  hall and into the equally as extravagant passageways, pointing out the no doubt fraudulent copies of famous tapestries that line the walls and reciting as much as you think will catch Oberyn’s interest.

You weave through the other customers expertly, hips swaying slightly to the drunken strummings of your uncle's favourite minstrel until you reach the master suite.

Pushing the doors open, you turn around to be met face to face with Oberyn... with no sign of his guards in sight.

“W-where did your guards go?” you question, taking a two steps backwards into the the suite - he takes two forward.

“My guards are simple men with simple needs. I gave them leave once I caught sight of Aero’s wondering gaze” he replies simply, smiling as if your sudden look of wariness and fear gives him cause for amusement. “Where better in the world to satisfy their needs, m’lord?” you ask rhetorically, smiling despite yourself as a burst of shrill, high laughter floats through the open door.

“Perhaps, but what about my needs?” he counters with his own question.

“I can summon Narissa if it would please you, m’lord. She's one of our most favoured workers” you reply, making to walk past him; he grabs your forearm just before you can, grip strong enough to stop you but not to hurt.

Of course, you know what he means to accomplish. Your mother had always warned you never to be a gossip, lest it came back to bite you in the rear but, you could never help but lend an ear to a particularly juicy tale and, like every other in Dorne, you’d heard the stories of Oberyn’s many... _escapades_.

The kiss is soft, almost chaste in its nature as your lips meld together. He tastes of sweet Dornish wine, candied fruit and _adrenaline_.

You sink willingly into his embrace, paying no mind as he leads you backwards and snakes a hand up your back of your dress, deftly untying the strings that hold your corset in place… at least until your legs hit the back of the bed, an exquisite monstrosity fit to bed all the Kings of the Seven Kingdoms (and their wives and lovers alike).

“What is it, girl? Did you wonder if my tongue was really forked? They don't call me the Viper for nothing” Oberyn asks, not impatiently, as you pull away, hands automatically rising to cover your exposed chest.

“The door, m’lord” you answer, shy again beneath his gaze. Brothel or no, you weren't sure your uncle would take too kindly if he was to walk in on you in the midst of the throes of passion, especially with the brother of the Prince of Dorne.

“As you wish”

His reply takes you by surprise, the complete opposite of the blazé, perhaps conceited, response you had been expecting from a nobleman of such high birth, and you watch from the bed as he indeed goes to close the door, locking it as he does so.

Assured that no-one can walk in, you stand to meet him, letting your simple shift fall to the floor completely as he approaches you.

He stills for a moment, head cocked slightly to the left as his eyes rove over the expanse of your body and lets out a lengthy whistle, you grin in response.

“So, just when will I be granted the pleasure of seeing what lies beneath that surcoat of yours?” you ask boldly, eyeing his bare chest through the unbuttoned shirt that he wears beneath his coat.

“Granted the pleasure?” He asks, eyes lit up with mirth as he licks his lips; slow and deliberately. You nod, shifting slightly on the spot with impatience - an action that doesn't go unnoticed by him.

He reaches you in two quick strides and you openly accept his kiss, letting his tongue in when he nips at your lips almost hungrily. This time it’s you who leads him backwards to the bed, stepping forwards so that he’s forced to take one back until he lays back on the bed.

“I’ll ask again. When will I see what's beneath that surcoat of yours?” you ask, trailing your index finger down the valley of his exposed chest.

“ _Now_ ” he replies, his calloused yet soft hands that had rested firmly on your waist before, moving to guide you to the belt that ties his coat.

The thought that you had been calling this the one of the worst days of your life not too long ago makes you laugh to yourself slightly as you undo his belt and thank the Gods, preemptively promising them that you’ll pay the closest Sept a visit to show your thanks… _afterwards_.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually finished writing this fic like 2 months ago but didn't like the ending so didn't publish it and after reading this over again, I noticed that my writing style is very repetitive across all of my fics (i.e. the vocabulary I use when describing things) and I just want to say: I'm trying to improve that. Hopefully those of you who're subscribed to me don't get bored with me before I post new content. Anyway, constructive criticism is always welcome in the comments.


End file.
